Thanks to Sonya of Only 100 Words for hosting #3LineTales.
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Oh, little lamb so marked for slaughter, with downy wool and bleating softly. Why do you release your life so easily, so innocent, not knowing you are meant to eat. Oh, silent babes, I understand now — it’s not you who die but the Good Shepard who lays down his life for his sheep; his flock he knows and marks them well, his own blood the price paid, the enemy felled.
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©Mandibelle16. (2017) All Rights Reserved.
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Such eyes have you, cerulean orbs bright,
Eyes which catch mine and so delight those near.
A sparkle, a glimmer of crystalline caught time,
Lashes long, dark, thick, too pretty I fear.
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When we were young, the boys teased you meanly,
Not realizing how, the ladies would tremble so now.
When you smiled at them, your eyes blue gleaming.
Your eyes fix me curious –come here now.
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My eyes gleam, meet yours, we know not others,
Just us two exist, not women flaunting.
You roll your eyes, their antics they smother,
Sparkling cerulean blue, wanting.
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Hands held and clasped, conversation relaxed,
Words between us enchant, softly we laugh.
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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.
Thanks to MindLovesMisery’s Menagerie for hosting this week’s Photo Challenge.
Paint the sky, it needs retouching soon.
For many ages, night tries killing moon.
Its her way, so you never feel safe; when —
Walking home, paint the sky with love.
Paint the moon herself; light needs less gloom,
Rid the clouds, which shape and form ruin.
Erase them; moon glows softly, romance blends,
Walking home, paint the sky with love.
Shape the moon, may she wax and wane soon,
Carve out her circle; flee now doom.
Dark clouds fading, artist’s rendering,
Walking home, paint the sky with love.
There is a whisper of dawn, orange looms,
But still the night enfolds us in gloom.
Night is long hours, be not so scared; when —
Walking home, paint the sky with love.
Such noises I heard, frightening booms,
Lightening crashed, and didn’t end soon,
I waited it out, dreamt of morn’s blooms,
Walking home, paint the sky with love.
©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.
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I’ve lost clarity; it’s obvious, observe —
When I’m peering through dense walls,
Where you disguise your life;
I’m blinded from your changing eyes.
Obsidian pupils, shining as glass;
Solidification of molten lava black.
Rings of green surround pupils.
In certain light, your eyes blackish-green fire;
In another light, they’re a grassy knoll.
I perceive your eyes, understanding you;
When you’re hostil, temperamental;
Your eyes alter colour, swirling into black.
A bitter ocean, a complex green.
Obsidian pupils merge; fight pleasant green.
The storm rages, your eyes stay grating.
As steel and concrete,
You’re cold, unflinching.
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When you’re serene and absorbed in life;
Your eyes tint with light,
Glow with presence;
Glimmering alert, understanding.
Conversing comfortably;
Words match your eyes.
Face, sure and bright;
Joy glows from your lips,
The creases in your smile.
Wrinkles, fan your eyes;
You laugh and illuminate my sight.
Your fantastic mood drawing people to you,
My beacon.
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But my favourite vantage,
Of your eyes;
Dark pupils focus, adore me slow.
Feeding an ethereal glow;
Throwing off embers of warmth.
Mysterious eyes, wide-open;
Your true-self, no posing.
Brilliant fire of space simmering;
Us a compass twain,
Star dust and nebulas.
You appear almost sleepy,
Eyes perceiving my eyes;
Mood indicators; receptors of feeling.
The lights in all the stars,
Of every universe, combined.
Heat from your heart (and other parts),
Obsidian meeting obsidian sheen;
Aurora Borealis in our eyes gleam.
Waves of heat and colour impress.
Of all the giant and tiny world’s,
Unparalleled; the world we combine.
Nebulas spark across the dark;
Your truth is when you memorize me,
Satisfied smile, softly content.
We’ve conquered stars;
As light is the only source,
Differing our eyes; a genetic defect passed,
Transforming brown, to blue and green;
The Northern Lights,
Enfolding us in time, our space.
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Credit: I thought about a lot of John Donne poetry writing this: A Valediction Forbidding Mourning and The Good Morrow mostly. Also, if you haven’t read about why some people have blue or green eyes, when originally, humans only had brown eyes, check-out: Wikipedia – Eye Colour. Turns out blue or green eyes is not a pigment, it has to do with structural colour and the scattering of light in certain conditions.
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©Mandibelle16. (2016) All Rights Reserved.
Thanks to The Daily Post for the prompt word sentimental.
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Sentimental,
She cried as she remembered,
Her tears streaming down,
Past times whispering softly,
Memories laced with harsh pain.
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Sentimental,
Whisps of happiness and cheer,
Wonderful times,
Forgotten now, trapped —
A mind that doesn’t know the day.
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Sentimental,
Years spent, drinking them away.
Parties with girls, now old.
Loving, days spent shot after shot.
Fragile now, liver won’t last long.
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Sentimental,
Eyes engaging his soul in dance.
First time he saw her,
He’ll never forget, breathless —
Kisses and skin revealed, now gone.
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Sentimental,
Is that word meaningful for you?
Remembering,
Fondness, time, emotions, experiences–
Missing a person you can’t have back.
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©Mandibelle16. All Rights Reserved.
Mandibelle16 
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